


Wishful Thinking

by sunshinexbomb



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 17:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15756483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinexbomb/pseuds/sunshinexbomb
Summary: Zhenya freezes, because on his doorstep is a basket, a small one made of white whicker. Inside the basket is a bundle of yellow blankets, and peeking out from the bundle is -“Oh fuck.”Zhenya picks up the basket carefully, moving aside some of the blankets with gentle fingers. The face of a sleeping baby with light wisps of hair peers out at him. Zhenya inhales sharply.“Fuck.”--In which Kuzy doesn't explicitly ask the Stanley Cup for a baby, but that's what it gives him anyway.





	Wishful Thinking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ghosthunter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghosthunter/gifts).



> A (very) belated birthday gift for Julie who is amazing and always deserves good things like Mojo and Kuzy taking care of babies. I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> This is clearly fictional. Thank you so much to Kassie and Coco for the beta! All other mistakes are my own.

Marcus calls him before Game 5, because he calls before every game.

“One more,” he says and Zhenya nods, lying in his overly plush hotel bed.

“One more,” he repeats with a breathy laugh because he still can’t believe it.

“Do you think you’re going to win?”

“I hope so.”

Marcus doesn’t say, “You will,” and Zhenya is thankful. They both know there are no guarantees.

“I wish you were here,” Zhenya says instead and he doesn’t know if he means _I wish you were here, so if we win, you could storm the ice with everyone’s families and I could kiss you silly_ or if he means _I wish you were here, on my wing, so if we win, I could pass you the Cup just like we’ve always wanted._

“Me too,” Marcus admits, and Zhenya doesn’t know which one he means either. “What are you going to wish for?” 

Zhenya laughs, playing with a loose thread on the hotel duvet. He twists it around his finger until it leaves faint white lines against his skin. “You know I can’t tell. Then it won’t come true.”

“That’s not a real thing,” Marcus scoffs. “Andre’s already told me an entire list of things he might wish for. Unprompted by the way.”

It’s not true, probably, that the wish you get when you win the Cup won’t come true if you reveal it but - Zhenya would rather be safe than sorry. “Don’t want to take any risks. If Burky wants to waste his wish, that’s his problem.”

Marcus hums on the other end of the line. “Well, make sure it’s not something stupid.”

“Me? Do something stupid? Never.”

Marcus laughs at that too, but his voice is soft when he says, “Of course not.”

They talk for just a little bit longer, until it’s time for Zhenya to take his pre-game nap. Marcus doesn’t tell him good luck, but he ends the call with a whispered, “I love you,” and Zhenya holds onto that before he goes to sleep.

\--

They win. They win the Stanley fucking Cup. It’s everything Zhenya has always wanted.

The Cup is fucking heavy when Dima hands it to him, but Zhenya’s pretty sure he could carry it forever if they let him. He kisses it, feels the silver cool and metallic against his lips.

Zhenya passes the Cup to Tom, and as he passes it, he makes his wish. His wish that he knows is precious and guaranteed to come true - he wishes that one day he and Marcus will get to share this much joy together. Because the only thing missing from the best day of Zhenya’s life so far is that it’s not Marcus’ fingers brushing against his as he passes on the Cup.

\--

The next few days are a blur. Zhenya doesn’t drink in public usually, or drink much at all, really. But they’re Stanley Cup Champions - fuck, he’s never gonna get tired of that - so he drinks in Vegas and he drinks at the Nats game and after and before the parade and -

It’s a long couple of days but he wouldn’t change almost anything about it.

In between the drinking and the celebrations and the pictures and the pure unbridled _joy_ emanating from the city, he calls Marcus and they talk, quiet and private, and it’s a nice break from the chaos that Zhenya’s life has otherwise become.

He wishes that Marcus were here, with him, but he doesn’t say it because he knows that Marcus knows. Instead he parties with Sasha and with Dima and he watches his teammates make fools of themselves by swimming in fountains and getting tattoos and he revels in the fact that they did it. They’re Stanley Cup Champions.

\--

Zhenya’s doorbell rings loudly the morning after the parade. That in itself is weird. He’s not expecting company and there’s not a lot of people in his life that would come over unannounced. He can’t see anything when he looks through the peephole, and Zhenya opens the door to no one.

“What the fuck?” Zhenya mumbles as he looks around, and it’s not until he glances down that he sees something.

Zhenya freezes, because on his doorstep is a basket, a small one made of white whicker. Inside the basket is a bundle of yellow blankets, and peeking out from the bundle is -

“Oh fuck.”

Zhenya picks up the basket carefully, moving aside some of the blankets with gentle fingers. The face of a sleeping baby with light wisps of hair peers out at him. Zhenya inhales sharply.

“ _Fuck_.”

There’s about five minutes where Zhenya properly freaks out because there is a _baby_ on his doorstep. Five minutes that Zhenya spends pacing in his sitting room and walking into the kitchen and walking out and taking his phone out of his pocket and putting it back away. He tries to breathe and calm down his racing heart and finally, when he can’t take it anymore, he takes a seat on the sofa.

The basket is on the coffee table, the baby still sleeping peacefully. Zhenya is afraid to wake it up, but he softly strokes the hand that has come loose from its blanket swaddle. It’s so small.

It’s only then that Zhenya notices the note inside the basket. He picks it up, his fingers trembling slightly. It’s not a note, but a birth certificate.

“Katarina Evgenyevna, born June 7th, 2018,” Zhenya whispers. “Baby Katya.”

There’s no last name, but his eyes are drawn lower to where there’s a listing for parents.

_Fathers: Evgeny Evgenyevich Kuznetsov & Marcus Lars Johansson_

Zhenya feels a little dizzy.

This time, when he picks up his phone, Zhenya actually unlocks it, bringing up his contacts and dialing. Marcus picks up after just a few rings.

“Hey,” he says, voice a little raspy. “I was just about to call you.”

“Were you napping?” Zhenya asks. He has no idea what time it is in Sweden - or what time it is in DC, for that matter.

“No, I just got off a plane.”

“A plane?” Zhenya asks, confused. Katya seems to still be fast asleep, so Zhenya gets up, taking the call into the kitchen.

“I’m in Dulles, actually,” Marcus says softly, “Surprise.”

“You - oh. You come to see me?” Zhenya can’t help but smile as he leans against the kitchen counter, some of the tension settled in his chest easing. Marcus is here. He’s home, with Zhenya.

“Of course. Why, did you not want me to come?” he teases. “I can just catch a flight back.”

“Shut up, no, please come home,” Zhenya groans. 

“Come pick me up?” Marcus asks. “I’m waiting for my luggage still, but it should be out pretty soon.”

Zhenya hesitates, biting his lip. He wants to, but he can’t really go anywhere with the baby, not without a carseat, at least. “Um, actually, is it okay if you catch a cab? Something’s uh - come up over here.”

“Is everything okay?” Marcus asks, and Zhenya can hear his worry, can picture the wrinkles he gets on his forehead when he frowns.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll see when you get here. Just - I’m sorry. I can’t come to the airport right now.”

“Okay,” Marcus says, clearly still confused. “I’ll see you soon then. Within the hour hopefully.” 

“Okay, I love you,” Zhenya makes sure to say.

“I love you too,” Marcus says before the line goes dead.

Zhenya groans, phone dropping loudly against the counter. 

Okay, so Marcus is here which is good. But he has a baby - _they_ have a baby - which is, well, not bad but not particularly convenient either. He needs - so many things. Baby formula, diapers, clothes. A drink, maybe, for himself.

Zhenya doesn’t even know where to start. 

\--

In the end, Zhenya ends up calling Nicky. 

“You better be dying or in jail,” Nicky growls when he picks the phone up, and Zhenya winces. He doesn’t want to imagine what kind of hangover Nicky is nursing after the last couple days, but he also didn’t know what else to do, who to call. He figured that if he had to have someone over once Marcus got there, Nicky would be better than most.

“Not dying, but I do have emergency,” Zhenya says softly, both for Katya’s sake and for Nicky’s. 

Zhenya’s taken her out of the basket, and she feels impossibly small cradled in his arms. She has Marcus’ round cheeks and his nose and every time Zhenya looks at her there’s a small ball of warmth that flares in his chest.

“What kind of emergency?” Nicky asks.

“Like, there was a baby on my doorstep this morning emergency,” Zhenya says and the line is so quiet that for a second he thinks that Nicky’s hung up or fallen back asleep or something.

“Am I still drunk? What do you mean a baby?”

“I -” Zhenya pauses. He has no explanation, really. He just knows there’s a baby and the birth certificate has his name on it as well as Marcus’. “I wished her, maybe? I think? Maybe by accident?” he says slowly, when it dawns on him. A beautiful yellow bundle of joy that he and Marcus could share their joy in.

Nicky lets out a sigh that’s loud enough for Zhenya to pick up over the phone. Katya starts to wiggle a little in Zhenya’s arms, stirring for a bit before settling again. He is woefully unprepared for when she wakes up. He knows the bit of baby formula and diapers he had found nestled in her basket when he picked her up won’t last him very long.

“Okay,” Nicky says. “What do you need?”

“Anything? Everything?” Zhenya admits. “Backy, I don’t have anything. What do I do when she wakes up? I don’t know how to take care of baby. I don’t -” Panic swells in Zhenya’s gut, and like she can sense his discomfort, Katya stirs again.

“Okay,” Nicky says again, and he sounds a bit more calm than when Zhenya called him. “Give me like thirty minutes. I’ll be over and I’ll bring some of Haley and Vince’s old stuff that we don’t use, just - don’t freak out, Kuzy.”

“Me? Freak out? Never,” Zhenya says, laughing nervously, swaying Katya gently when she wiggles against him.

Nicky actually laughs a little, and all Zhenya can do when he hangs up is wish that he gets here as soon as possible.

\--

Katya wakes up about ten minutes after Nicky calls. Zhenya watches in fascination as she blinks her eyes up at him slowly. They’re blue like his and they look back at him before filling up with tears that are followed by a loud, high-pitched cry.

“No, no, no, don’t cry, Katyushka,” Zhenya mumbles, bouncing her lightly in his arms. It does little to soothe her and she continues to wail, her cries seeming impossibly loud for how tiny her lungs her.

“Baby Katyushka, I don’t know what you want,” Zhenya says, trying not to feel frazzled. She’s still crying and sniffling, though, and Zhenya doesn’t know what to _do_.

He paces around for a little, bouncing her up and down, trying to soothe her with mumbled Russian nonsense. He checks her diaper, which is dry, and is just starting to parse through the directions on the small tin of formula when the doorbell rings.

“Nicky, thank god,” Zhenya says opening the door, but freezes when he realizes it’s not Nicky on the other side of the door.

“Um, that’s a baby,” Marcus says, staring at Zhenya in surprise. “Why do you have a baby?” He looks soft and rumpled and confused and Zhenya wants to kiss him but also he’s holding a crying baby and losing his mind a little bit.

“Uh,” Zhenya says, still bouncing Katya in his arms. “Surprise?”

“Surprise?” Marcus says, voice coming out a bit squeaky. “What do you mean _surprise_?”

“I mean I make a wish on Stanley Cup and then I wake up to a baby and surprise it’s your baby too,” Zhenya says over Katya’s cries.

Marcus looks at the baby and then at Zhenya and then back at the baby and his face softens. “Why are you making our baby cry?”

“I think she’s hungry,” Zhenya says. “Can you come inside, please?”

Marcus shakes his head a little, like he’s surprised to still be standing outside. He grabs the bags by his feet, leaving them by the door as he follows Zhenya into the kitchen. Zhenya’s a bit surprised when Marcus makes his way straight to the formula, already starting to putter around Zhenya’s kitchen as he puts it together.

“How do you know how to do that?” Zhenya asks, watching Marcus carefully measure out the powdered formula and put it into the baby bottle that came in Katya’s basket.

Marcus gives him a look. “It’s not that hard. But also, I used to do it sometimes when I helped Nicke and Liza out with Haley.”

They take Katya out to the sitting room again, both of them settling side by side on the couch. Zhenya gingerly passes Katya to Marcus who holds her carefully in his arms, putting the bottle to her mouth and smiling when she latches on immediately.

“What’s her name?” Marcus asks softly. He’s staring down at her in wonder, and Zhenya understands, knows that Marcus is feeling the same fascination that he did earlier. 

“The birth certificate said ‘Katarina Evgenyevna’,” Zhenya answers. “I’ve been calling her Katya.”

“Little baby Katya,” Marcus breathes out with a laugh, “holy shit.”

“Don’t curse in front of the baby,” Zhenya chides and Marcus sticks his tongue out at him childishly. 

“Fuck you, she doesn’t understand yet anyway,” he replies and Zhenya rolls his eyes.

Marcus stops feeding about half-way to burp her and then hands her to Zhenya, showing him how to cradle her correctly and how to hold the bottle so it’s easiest for both of them. Zhenya still can’t get over how small she is, her tiny fingers and toes and her small little mouth. It’s endlessly amazing.

“You really wished for a baby?” Marcus asks as Katya finishes up the bottle.

Zhenya shakes his head and looks at him sheepishly. “I just - I wished that we could share something that made you feel as happy as I did when I held the Cup.”

“And how does this compare?” Marcus asks softly.

“It’s so much better, Mackan,” Zhenya answers honestly.

Marcus’ smile is gentle, pushing up the round apples of his cheeks. He kisses the side of Zhenya’s face, and they watch as Katya finishes up the last drops in the bottle.

\--

Katya’s settled down considerably after her bottle. She seems alert for a new born baby, looking around at everything. She seems to like when Marcus holds her, cooing softly and making soft gurgling noises when Marcus holds her to his chest. Zhenya has never seen Marcus look so happy and it fills Zhenya with an unexplainable joy as well.

Marcus dozes off eventually, Katya cradled against his chest, when Nicky arrives, carrying bagfuls of things in with him. 

“Did you bring everything you own?” Zhenya asks in exasperation as he takes a couple bags from Nicky.

“Liza was happy to get rid of all this stuff,” Nicky admits, carrying the rest into the house with Zhenya. “I have a few more things in the car - a swing, a carseat - but you’ll have to get the bigger stuff on your own.”

“Thanks, Nicky, really,” Zhenya says sincerely. Zhenya hadn’t realized that babies required so many _things_ and he can’t imagine when he would have found the time to get all this.

Nicky shrugs, waving it off. “Where is she?” he asks. “I wanna see her.”

“Inside, sleeping with Marcus,” Zhenya says and Nicky raises an eyebrow at him.

“Marcus is here?”

“He come to surprise me today,” Zhenya explains. “But, I think he was the one who got bigger surprise.”

“I’ll bet,” Nicky says with a laugh. “I didn’t realize the Cup could - do that. But I guess I’m not too surprised either.”

Zhenya has no idea how the magic of the Cup works, or where it even comes from. But he knows for sure that he has never felt happiness quite like he has in the past few days.

\--

Zhenya wakes Marcus up when he and Nicky have finished unloading the car. Nicky’s truly brought an obscene amount of stuff - clothes and bibs and toys and odds and ends that Zhenya wouldn’t even think of, like a bottle warmer and the vibrating swing they settle Katya into when Marcus is up.

“It’s only been a year since Vince was born and I already forgot how small they can be,” Nicky says, watching her with a wistful smile on his face. 

“Are you thinking about having another one?” Marcus asks with a laugh. He and Zhenya are sitting on the couch together, Marcus’ head leaning on Zhenya’s shoulder.

“Pretty sure Liza would kill me if I brought it up right now,” Nicky says, getting up from the floor where he was sitting in front of Katya’s swing. He groans a little as he does, and Zhenya can hear the crack of his knees. “I’m getting old, Mackan.” 

“You’re not old, you’re just hungover,” Marcus scoffs and Nicky throws a throw pillow from the couch at his head.

“Shut up, I’m not that hungover anymore,” Nicky says, plopping down on the single armchair. 

“Which means you _are_ still hungover,” Marcus points out and Nicky just flicks him off in response.

“I came out here for you guys, didn’t I? Be nice.”

“Yes, thank you, Backy, you’re the best,” Zhenya says before Marcus can add a smart reply.

“I know,” Nicky smirks, and then his face softens a bit. “Do you want me to watch her for a little bit? You two can go and get some of the other things you need, get out of the house a little.”

Zhenya looks at Marcus, almost relieved to see the same hesitation on his face. “I don’t know,” Zhenya says, not liking the idea of leaving Katya alone already.

Nicky rolls his eyes. “I’ve done this once or twice, she’s in good hands. Go, go out. It’ll just be a little bit, and trust me, in a few days you’ll be begging for another opportunity like this again.”

Marcus gives a small shrug. “I guess we can for a little bit. Just pick up the essentials. Who knows when else we’ll be able to go otherwise.”

Zhenya still feels a little unsure, but Marcus takes his hand, squeezing it gently and it’s enough to make him relent.

\--

Shopping takes them longer than Zhenya thinks it will.

They stop for lunch first when Marcus’ stomach growls and Zhenya realizes guiltily that they hadn’t eaten anything all day, too busy with Katya to even think about food. 

“Only you would accidentally wish for a baby,” Marcus says over pasta. “I told you not to do something stupid.”

“Excuse me, are you calling our baby stupid?” Zhenya asks, pushing his plate closer to the center of the table when Marcus starts to swipe pieces of penne off of it.

“No, of course not,” Marcus says. “Our baby is wonderful. But it’s going to be hard, you know? When the season starts and I’m not -”

“Yeah,” Zhenya says sadly, knowing how that sentence is going to end. _When I’m not here, when I’m in Jersey, when we’ll be apart_. “I’ve been trying not think about that.”

“We’ll have to eventually,” Marcus says regretfully. “I’m so happy about this, Kuzma, but like. Next time, I’d like a little warning,” he says, and it’s light, playful even and Zhenya relaxes a little.

“You’re already thinking about number two? She’s barely a few days old,” Zhenya says.

“Shut up and eat your pasta,” Marcus says, rolling his eyes.

They don’t mention it the rest of lunch, instead making a list of things that they’ll need at the store so they can be in and out quickly. Of course, it’s all for naught as soon as they’re there.

Zhenya has to refrain himself from buying every cute onesie and tiny pair of baby shoes and set of tiny baby socks and cute fluffy stuffed animal that he sees, and Marcus is no better, absolutely starry-eyed as he wonders out loud at how Katya will look in every frilly dress. They end up buying way too much, especially since Nicky’s already given them plenty of Haley’s hand-me-downs, but they do get essentials like a bassinet, a bathing tub, and what seems like a year’s supply of diapers that Marcus insists will be gone before they know it.

They’re back at Zhenya’s nearly two hours after they first left, and before they’re out of the car, Marcus stops Zhenya with a hand on his wrist.

“Hey,” he says softly, “I really am happy about this. About Katya and doing this with you and - everything.” 

Zhenya smiles at him, leaning over the console to kiss him. It’s soft at first, deepening when Marcus’ hand moves up to Zhenya’s face. It’s the first time that Zhenya has kissed him in literal months, since before playoffs, and Zhenya’s missed it so much, the feel of Marcus’ mouth, his hands, the spark of electricity that travels down his spine when Marcus tugs at the short hairs at the back of his neck.

“I know you are,” Zhenya says when they part. His forehead is leaned against Marcus’, both of them breathing a bit harder than before. “I am too. I love you.”

Marcus kisses him again, just a small, soft thing, and says, “I love you too. Now, let’s go see our daughter.”

And Zhenya’s sure he’ll never get tired of hearing that.

\--

Katya is awake when they get back, Nicky making silly faces at her as he bounces her on his lap. Zhenya’s not sure if she can actually smile or anything yet, but she seems to be enjoying it. 

They thank Nicky profusely for his help, for everything he brought and for watching Katya and he waves it all off, promising to come by again if they need anything before he leaves for Sweden.

The rest of the day passes quickly. Katya is a relatively quiet baby, crying only when she’s hungry and when she needs a diaper change. They take turns holding her, playing with her or watching her in the swing, which she seems to enjoy. 

Zhenya takes a picture of her in Marcus’ arms and sends it to the team group chat, watching it explode immediately with congratulations. He sends pictures to his parents, to Marcus’ family, and then turns his phone off for a bit because he’s sure it’ll be flooded with questions and comments.

“Is it sad that it’s only nine and I feel like I’m going to pass out?” Marcus asks as they’re getting ready for bed.

“You’re probably jet-lagged,” Zhenya reminds him. “But I’m exhausted too.”

Katya’s already settled in her bassinet for the night. Zhenya changed her into a tiny Caps onesie that he found in Nicky’s hand-me-downs, despite Marcus’ protests that this will be a two-team household with no favoritism.

Zhenya feels settled in a way he hasn’t in a long time when he gets into bed with Marcus. Marcus cuddles up to his side, and Zhenya runs his fingers through Marcus’ hair, kissing the top of his head softly. He’s missed this, just lying side-by-side, being together, feeling Marcus’ warmth against him. And it’s made even better knowing that Katya is just on the other side of the room from them.

“We’re gonna put her in the Cup, right?” Marcus asks, words thick with sleep. “On your Cup day? We have to put her in the Cup. She wouldn’t be here without it.”

“Yeah, we’ll definitely put her in the Cup,” Zhenya promises.

“She’s gonna look so cute. I’m gonna make her wear a Devil’s jersey. It’ll be funny.”

“Shut up, she’s not wearing a Devil’s jersey on my Cup day,” Zhenya laughs.

“Hm, we’ll see,” Marcus says, and he places a kiss against Zhenya’s chest, before drifting off completely.

Zhenya pulls him closer, drifting off also as he thinks about how grateful he is that this is something him and Marcus get to do together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments and kudos are always appreciated! You can find me @tjoshov on both tumblr and twitter!


End file.
